


Something Sweet

by QueenOfCarrotFlowers



Series: Carrot's Romance Fics [26]
Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, BENLO, Ben and Kylo are twins, Finnbenlo, Implied Sibling Incest, M/M, Rimming, Spitroasting, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-05
Updated: 2019-12-05
Packaged: 2021-01-30 20:07:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21433966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenOfCarrotFlowers/pseuds/QueenOfCarrotFlowers
Summary: Finn picks up Kylo in a bar - or is he picked up by him? After what should have been a one-night-stand Finn keeps going back to the bar, hoping to see Kylo again, and six months later they meet a second time, although Kylo seems different than he did before. Finn goes home with him again anyway, and gets two times more than he bargained for.Includes art by Blackfig.
Relationships: Finn/Ben Solo, Finn/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Finn/Ben Solo/Kylo Ren, Finn/Kylo Ren, Kylo Ren/Ben Solo
Series: Carrot's Romance Fics [26]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1801348
Comments: 13
Kudos: 86
Collections: Finnlo-Focused Multiship Anthology 2019





	Something Sweet

**Author's Note:**

> I'd been wanting to write Finn/Kylo/Ben for a long time, and thanks to the Anthology I finally had a good excuse!
> 
> Ben and Kylo do not have sexual contact with each other in this story although they kiss and it is implied that they do more.
> 
> It's smut with a bit of plot, plus beautiful (very explicit) art by [Blackfig](https://twitter.com/Blackfig_) in the endnotes!
> 
> Thanks to flypaper_brain for betaing this story and encouraging me in my desire to write Finnbenlo!

He'd just wanted a drink.

Finn was in the city for work, doing a little training with the engineering staff at the main office, rather than having his own training at the smaller office where he was based. He enjoyed it well enough, but after five days of forced camaraderie he was ready for a change of pace. So after the team dinner on Friday night, after one last toast at the hotel bar and saying goodnight to his local colleagues he went back to his room, took a quick shower, shaved, dressed himself down in jeans, a black t-shirt, and his worn Doc Martens, shrugged into his brown leather jacket to protect against the October chill, and headed out to see what he could see.

Twenty minutes later Finn was ordering a bottle of a local IPA at a basement bar not far from the waterfront. It was a dive, a real place, which meant it was a bit gross but he liked it.

He stood facing the room, leaned against the bar and watched a group of college students play pool, sipping the cold, bitter brew and thinking about how early he would need to catch a cab in the morning to make his 7am flight. He was considering whether 5am would work or if he should aim for 4:45 or even 4:30, in which case considering the time he should just head back to his room after one drink, when a man came through the door and handed his ID to the bouncer, and Finn suddenly forgot how to breathe.

The man was so tall his head almost touched the top of the low frame of the door. He was wearing a black leather jacket, and his dark hair brushed his shoulders. As Finn watched him take two steps past the bouncer and tuck his wallet back into an inside pocket of his jacket, he raked his left hand - his large left hand - through that hair, pushing it back from his face. He looked up, and his eyes caught Finn staring at him across the room.

Normally, this would have been the point where Finn would look away. He’d look down at the scuffed toes of his own boots, or at the label on his beer, or even turn around and examine the bottles of liquor behind the bar, try to figure out the organization system. But that day he didn’t; that day, Finn didn’t look away. He couldn’t; he was trapped, like a deer in headlights, trapped in the power of this man’s gaze.

Finn had plenty of opportunity to examine the man as he crossed the room and came to a stop next to him at the bar, the very corner of the man’s mouth crooked up into a half-smile all the way. His mouth, Finn couldn’t help but notice, was generous and wide, his lips pink and plush. Finn wanted to kiss those lips, quite badly. His nose was large; the term _regal_ came to Finn’s mind, which felt silly but also not wrong. And his eyes were beautiful, honey-brown and deep. He stared at Finn staring at him, up until he reached the bar and turned his attention to the beer taps, lined up down the bar.

“What are you drinking?” the man asked, and it took Finn a moment to realize that he was speaking to him. He wasn't even sure the man was real and not a hallucination cooked up by the depths of his subconscious.

“It’s, uh, Broken Bell Double IPA,” he said, not smoothly, reading off the label. The man’s lip curled up and he turned his attention back to the taps. Finn could feel a weight lift off him when the man was no longer looking at him, and he missed the pressure. 

“I don’t like IPAs,” the man volunteered, flagging down the bartender. “Too bitter for my taste.” He turned his head back to catch Finn’s eyes. Finn, who had still been staring at the side of his face, wishing he’d look back at him again. “I prefer something a bit more sweet,” he said, with a dart of his tongue against his lips and a glance down at Finn’s mouth. 

This man was not subtle, but Finn appreciated that. It was good to know where he stood. He shifted sideways and leaned on his elbow against the bar.

“Don’t get me wrong,” Finn drawled, taking a sip from his own bottle and appreciating the way the man’s eyes tracked his lips and his throat as he swallowed it down. “I like sweet things myself.”

“Well it’s good we can agree on something,” the man said with a smile, accepting an empty glass and a dark bottle from the bartender and paying with cash. He held up the bottle to Finn before pouring it himself. “Formation,” he explained. “Lambic-inspired.”

“Is it sweet?” Finn asked, watching as the man poured it all into the glass, just a half-inch space at the top once the bottle was empty.

The man gestured at the now-full glass and gave Finn another one of the half-smiles that made his tummy flip.

“Why don’t you try it and find out?”

Finn lifted the cool glass and took a sip, keeping his eyes on the man the entire time. It was sweet, but not overly, with a distinctive fruity flavor and bright acidity with a funky, earthy after-flavor.

“Do you like it?” the man asked, taking back the glass once he was done watching Finn lick the beer off his upper lip.

“I do,” Finn answered, holding up his own bottle and sloshing the contents around. “It’s better than this thing.”

The man eyed the bottle and raised an eyebrow. “Can I buy you one of what I have?”

Finn carefully set the bottle on the bar and pushed it away, and took a step closer to the man. He was feeling bold; there were only two steps between them to begin with.

“I think it’s better if I don’t drink any more,” he murmured, staring at the man’s lips, and then up into his eyes. “Don’t you?”

The man blushed - actually blushed, a healthy crimson - as both corners of his mouth quirked up, revealing dimples in his cheeks. He picked up his glass and took a long draft.

“How about I finish this glass,” he whispered, licking his lips, “and then we go back to my place?”

Finn reached out a finger and stroked the back of the man’s hand.

“I think that’s an excellent idea.”

* * *

It _was_ an excellent idea.

Finn thought this to himself as he followed the man out of the bar and up the stairs, watching his ass and hips, encased in tight jeans, swaying as he made each step up. He thought this as he walked with the man, side-by-side, both of them with hands in jacket pockets, walking together in silence with arms barely touching. They walked down three blocks and over two, into the nicer part of the city’s historic district. Finn thought it as he followed the man again up a stoop and into an old brownstone, up another set of stairs and into a roomy apartment with hardwood floors and a moulded plaster ceiling with windows facing the street. He thought it again as the man threw his own jacket onto the back of the large leather armchair before he tugged Finn’s down his shoulders and onto the floor, and then pushed him against the wall, pressing his entire body against him, and claimed his mouth with a growl.

The man’s mouth was hot and tasted like his beer - earthy, slightly sweet - and his body was hard and strong. He smelled like sandalwood.

“You,” the man murmured, as his lips moved from Finn’s mouth to his neck, kissing and nibbling, his hands tugging Finn’s shirt from under the waistband of his jeans and wrapping his hands around the skin of Finn’s exposed waist, “are so _fucking hot_. I want to touch you. Tell me what you like.” He paused, and lifted his face from Finn’s neck so he could look into his eyes again. “Tell me what you like,” he whispered, and Finn lost his voice.

But only for a moment. When a man like this one tells you to tell him what you like, you tell him. Finn had to think quickly; he liked an awful lot of things.

“Your mouth,” he said. “Wherever you want to put it. And my mouth. Honestly, I’m all about mouths.”

The man gave him another of those half-smiles - Finn was getting quite attached to it - and nodded. “I could have guessed you like to use your mouth. With lips like yours, you were born for it.” He punctuated his praise by giving Finn another kiss, sloppy with tongue and teeth, but only for a minute before he pulled back again to look in Finn’s eyes.

“What else do you like? Or what don’t you like?”

"No penetration. I mean, I like it, but not…"

"Not for a one-night stand, I got it. Turn around."

Finn relaxed at the man's quick consent to his own comfort and leaned against the wall as the man crouched behind him and removed his boots before pulling his jeans and boxers down and off. He left Finn's socks and shirt on, and Finn felt a bit silly before the man tugged his hips back, encouraged his feet apart, pushed his cheeks apart with a hushed _ohhhh_, and pressed his tongue against the back of Finn's balls. Finn forgot to think at all, then.

True to his word, the man made no move to penetrate Finn, but he did just about everything else. He spent several minutes familiarizing himself with Finn’s backside with his mouth, and reaching between his legs and squeezing his cock - not for his pleasure, just to get the sense of it, Finn was sure.

"You're uncut," the man growled into Finn's right buttcheek as he pulled back his foreskin and dabbed the tip of his finger into the precum gathered there. "I like it."

Finn shuddered.

"Oh yeah?" He asked, trying to control the shake in his voice. "Are you?"

"Nah," the man said, standing up. Finn could hear the sound of a zipper and his heart sped up, but he wasn't afraid. "We're Jewish."

Whatever response Finn might have made to that comment fled his mind when the man laid his cock, solid and warm, in the crack between his cheeks. Large hands gripped Finn’s hips to keep him steady as the man thrust gently twice, the saliva from his mouth providing a slick channel.

"Is this okay?" The man asked, stilling. 

"S'perfect," Finn moaned, and without further ado the man set to work, thrusting his cock over Finn's ass, tip to base, pressing hard against his hole.

The man's cock was large, and he clearly knew how to use it. When would Finn get this chance again? He regretted his decision to stick to principle.

"Do you have a condom?" He gritted out. "I changed my mind, I want you to fuck me. Please." He thought he might be whining and he hated how it sounded but it didn't matter because the man didn't slow down.

"No. You'll regret it. I don't want you to regret this." There was a slight pause as the man stopped to spit, a fresh dollop of moisture to lubricate the event. "Next time," he said softly as he started moving again. Then, an order: "Now. Touch yourself."

Finn took hold of his own cock, and his disappointment at rejection melted away when the pressure of the man behind him, and that of his hand, had him grunting with release just a minute later, cum spurting out onto the wall and dripping down onto the hardwood floor. There was an answering moan behind him and a muttered "_fuck_" followed by a splash of hot fluid across his back. The man had pushed Finn's shirt up just before he'd come, and he whispered a gentle "hold on” before walking away, and returning a moment later with a damp cloth to wipe Finn's back and behind off with a sigh. Finn stood up on legs still weak from his orgasm and reached out to take the cloth, thinking to clean up the mess he’d made on the wall and the floor, but to his surprise the man pecked his cheek and maneuvered him out of the way.

“I’ll get that,” the man said, crouching down to wipe up Finn’s cum. “Would you like some water, or something else to drink? Have a seat, if you’d like.”

Finn eyed the living room furniture, which was puffy and leather and looked expensive, and then he dug his phone out of his discarded jacket and checked the time. It was past 10pm, and he had to be up early. As the man took the cloth to some other part of the apartment - bathroom laundry hamper, Finn supposed - he pulled his jeans back on and was tying his boots when the man came back into the front hall. Finn thought he looked confused, and a bit hurt, but the expression passed and he was just the man again.

“Are you going?”

“Yeah, man, sorry,” Finn said apologetically. “I have an early flight to catch.”

The man worked his jaw, as though he wanted to say something but his mouth wasn’t going to let it out, and then he nodded.

“Yeah, okay. It was fun. See you around.”

“See you around, man,” Finn replied, holding his hand out and feeling a bit ridiculous until the man shook it, another one of those elusive half-smiles on his lips.

“Kylo,” he said. “Name’s Kylo.”

“I’m Finn,” said Finn. “See you, Kylo.”

“See you, Finn.”

Finn’s insides churned the entire walk back to the hotel; he felt weird and off-kilter. He’d had a great time with a hot guy. Why did he feel like he’d missed something important?

* * *

Finn made his flight the next morning, and then life went back to normal. It really did. Sure, maybe Finn had some new and detailed masturbatory fantasies featuring a specific tall, dark and handsome stranger (Kylo, _not_ a stranger... well, not exactly a stranger), but work was the same and home life (such as it was - just Finn and the cat and occasional visits with his neighbors) was also fine.

Three weeks later, Finn’s boss announced that the training in the city had gone so well that they would be doing more of it; in fact, Finn would be heading to the city three days a month for the next six months to train with his colleagues. Finn didn’t mind, he told them; he liked traveling and his neighbors would take care of the cat. He was excited, but for other reasons - he was going to track down Kylo again, and give him the thing he’d wanted to give him the last time, but hadn’t because of principles. It was _good_ to have limits, and good to stand by them, and it was very, very good to have a partner who respected those limits, even if it’s frustrating. But Finn was ready to set them aside. Kylo had said _next time_ after all, and Finn was going to hold him to that. 

Which is how, just a few weeks later, after his first day of training, Finn pulled on his woolen peacoat and black watchcap and headed back to the dive bar where he’d met Kylo. He’d considered searching for the man on Google, finding out more about him, maybe even an email address so he could let him know he’d be back in town, but he decided that was just creepy. They hadn’t exchanged information when they’d had the chance, and maybe that was for a reason. Maybe, despite his words to the contrary, Kylo didn’t do next times. Finn told himself that would be okay, that if he saw Kylo and he wasn’t interested, Finn could finish his drink and head back to the hotel and keep himself company. It would be fine.

The question was moot, because Kylo wasn’t there. He wasn’t there the second night either, or the third. Finn was disappointed on his flight back home, but he was nothing if not persistent. The next month he went back to the bar, and again the next, and the next. By the fourth month the bartender recognized him, but Finn didn’t have the courage to ask him about the tall man named Kylo, or if he’d ever come back to the bar after the night they’d met.

Finally, the second night of the sixth month, in the green warmth of the emerging spring of early April, Kylo was at the bar.

He looked good. A little different, but Finn figured he looked a bit different too, after six months. Finn had let his hair grow out, and had started wearing it in little twists about six weeks before. Kylo, on the other hand, had trimmed his hair to just above his ears, and he was wearing a tan blazer instead of the black leather jacket, and he was wearing brown leather shoes instead of the black ones he'd worn in the Fall. But otherwise he looked pretty much the same. The same regal nose, the same wide, plush mouth, the same beautiful honey-brown eyes.

He was less intense than back in October, and although he watched Finn walk into the room he didn’t stare at him as he had before. That was okay; maybe he’d had an off day. Maybe he wasn’t in the mood. Or maybe - the idea made Finn’s heart twist as it occurred to him, halfway to the bar, stepping past the college students who seemed to play pool there every night - maybe Kylo didn’t remember him at all. It had been a few hours, six months ago. Maybe Kylo took a different person home every night - he could, if he wanted to. 

That was okay. Finn would just have to remind him.

“Hey,” Finn said, giving him a smile and a nod as he stepped up next to the empty stool beside where Kylo perched, one foot tucked in the stool’s spindle, the other resting on the shiny bronze footrest that ran along the bottom of the outside of the bar. “How are you?”

Kylo shrugged and gave him one of his half-smiles, which pleased Finn rather more than it probably should have. “Pretty good,” he answered. “You know. Work. Life.” And he took a sip from his tumbler of amber liquid, and shrugged again.

“Yeah, I know.” Finn eyed the taps, even though he already knew what he was going to order. “What are you drinking tonight?”

Kylo lifted the glass and shook it slightly, making the ice clink. “Just some Jameson. Nothing special.” He paused, eyes focused still on the glass. “Would you like one? My treat?” He sounded a bit shy, almost hesitant, which seemed very un-Kylo-like - as well as Finn knew Kylo, which he had to admit wasn’t very well - but it was also endearing, and Finn laughed without meaning to. A blush appeared on the apples of Kylo’s cheeks, and Finn could see it spread up to the tips of his ears, which poked up from his slightly-shorter-than-necessary hair. 

“No, but thank you. I can buy my own drink.” 

Kylo had apparently been quite embarrassed, because as the bartender approached to take Finn’s order, he could see Kylo shifting out of the corner of his eye, as though he was going to move away. Without thinking Finn reached out towards him, and grasped his arm.

“Stay,” He murmured, “At least until I get my drink.” Kylo looked uncertain, but then Finn said, “please” and Kylo nodded and relaxed back onto his stool.

Finn took a breath once he’d made his order and the bartender turned away to get his drink. “Sorry, I’m just,” but Kylo interrupted. 

“No, it’s okay,” Kylo said. “I’m feeling a bit strange today, that’s all.” And he offered Finn a smile, the corners of his mouth quirking up to show off his dimples - those lovely dimples, just as attractive now as they’d been in Finn’s imagination for so many months.

The bartender brought Finn his bottle and a chilled glass, and Finn took his time enjoying the pour of the beer. He could see Kylo watching from the corner of his eye, and when the bottle was empty Finn held it up and showed it to him.

“Formation,” Finn said, and Kylo smiled.

“Lambic-inspired.”

“Sweet,” added Finn, and took a deep sip. He licked his upper lip when he was done, and enjoyed the way Kylo’s eyes tracked his tongue.

This was more like it.

“Would you like some?” Finn said, offering the glass to Kylo, and he took it, and took a long sip himself, his eyes on Finn’s eyes the whole time. When he was done he set down the glass and released a quiet sigh. 

“It is sweet,” he agreed, his cheeks pink, eyes dark.

Finn leaned closer. “How about,” he said, “once I’m done with my drink, and you’re done with your drink, we go back to your place and figure out something else that’s sweet? Maybe something we can do together?”

Kylo’s flush was back, and Finn could tell that he was doing his best to school his expression. He took a breath, let it out, and shrugged.

“Well, sure. Okay.”

Finn grinned at him and took another drink of his beer. Kylo was a little different from how he remembered him, but if anything he was more endearing, even sweeter. He couldn’t wait to get back to Kylo's apartment and get naked, and give and take the way he wished they had, back in October.

* * *

The stroll back to Kylo’s apartment was pretty much as Finn remembered it. Three blocks down, two across. Again they walked in silence, barely touching. Only this time the weather was fine, not chilly and a bit wet and misty, but clear and relatively clean (relatively- it was still a city). Dogwoods were blooming, and Finn could see rows of tulips in a small park they passed on their way through the historic neighborhood. 

And there it was, just as he remembered: the stoop, the brownstone, the stairs, the roomy apartment with hardwood floors and a moulded plaster ceiling with windows facing the street. The puffy, expensive-looking leather furniture. There were paintings on the wall, and Finn couldn’t remember if they’d been there before or not. They were fine, though, and he took a moment to examine one of them as Kylo shrugged off his blazer and then helped Finn off with his own jacket, hanging them both on the pegs by the door. 

Were the pegs there before? Finn couldn’t remember that, either.

Kylo stood next to Finn, looking at the painting. It was a lake, with mountains behind, a kind of dreamy aesthetic that Finn didn’t know enough to place. Impressionist? He thought it was too realistic for that. But he liked it.

“My brother painted that,” Kylo said nodding, at the same time his fingers brushed purposefully against Finn’s. Finn interlaced their fingers and Kylo sighed. “He’s very talented.”

“He is,” Finn replied, and turned to find Kylo gazing down at him. He was several inches taller than Finn, and larger, and Finn loved the feeling of being small; just a little small.

His left hand was entwined with Kylo’s but his right hand was free, and he pushed his fingers through Kylo’s hair before he pulled him down for a kiss. His hair was so very soft; Finn hadn’t touched it before, and he wished he had but he was also very glad to be able to do it now. His lips were exactly as generous as he remembered, and his mouth tasted sweet, and very soon they’d maneuvered onto the sofa. Kylo sat, his legs stretched out in front of him, and Finn straddled his lap, knees tight around Kylo’s hips, his hands in Kylo’s hair and Kylo’s hands pressing against his backside, and they kissed for quite a while.

They kissed, and then several things happened in quick succession.

Finn moaned “_Kylo._..” against Kylo’s neck.

Kylo groaned, tipped his head back against the back of the sofa, and said, “Oh goddammit, not _again_.”

The door to the apartment opened with a scrape and a clatter, and Kylo walked in the door - hair around his shoulders, leather jacket on his back, a paper grocery sack tucked in the crook of his arm. 

Finn’s brain was having trouble processing what exactly was going on. He spent several moments looking from Kylo, who was closing the door and negotiating with the jacket while keeping hold of the bag, to … whoever this person was who looked almost exactly and yet nothing like Kylo, now that Finn had the real Kylo there for comparison.

Whoever it was, he still hadn’t pushed Finn off his lap, and Finn found himself somewhat glad about that.

“Hey Kylo,” the man said with a sigh, finally drawing the attention of the other man… well, of Kylo. “Looks like I met a friend of yours at the bar.” He sounded weary, and a little upset, and Finn placed his palm against the man’s cheek. He flinched away. “Don’t do that.”

“Hush,” Finn said. “I want to. That okay?”

The man nodded, though he avoided eye contact, and Finn looked back up at Kylo, who had successfully removed his jacket and was now standing there in a black t-shirt and jeans looking incredibly amused.

“Hey, Finn,” he said nonchalantly. “Long time no see. I see you met my brother.”

“Your twin,” Finn clarified, and the man beneath him sighed.

“That’s Ben. He’s three minutes older, but you’d never guess it.” The tone of Kylo’s voice was teasing but full of affection, and he padded across the room to give his brother - Ben - a kiss on the top of his head before making his way to the open kitchen area.

“I picked up a six-pack of Fuego,” he said, setting down the bag and pulling out a bottle. “New England-style IPA.” He leveled a grin at Finn. “It’s sweet.”

“All right,” said Finn, and glanced down at Ben, who was looking slightly less miserable than he had a moment ago. “You want a beer?” he asked the man, and Ben nodded his head and pressed his cheek against Finn’s hand. Ben, Finn had decided, was really adorable. He liked him, even though he wasn't Kylo. He liked them both.

Kylo came to the sofa with two open bottles and handed one to Finn.

"It's really nice to see you," he said softly, and bent down to press his lips against Finn’s. He was tentative at first, but Finn leaned in and deepened the kiss. Kylo felt and tasted like his brother, hot and sweet, and a moan came up from the depths of Finn's chest at the same time Ben cleared his throat. Finn pulled back, embarrassed, but Kylo's lips curled up, his mischievous grin a contrast to his brother's dour frown.

"Aw, Benny, are you feeling left out?" Kylo cooed, and he leaned over and gave him a kiss on the mouth, too. Ben tipped up his chin with a whimper as Kylo's tongue darted out and touched against his brother's lip.

“Woah,” Finn said, and Kylo hummed and kissed Ben harder. Ben reached his hand up to cup Kylo’s cheek. Finn took a sip from the bottle - it _was_ sweet - and then said “woah” again, because he wasn’t sure what else to say.

The brothers kissed and Finn watched, and when they finished they both took sips of beer and looked at him. Ben looked slightly embarrassed, cheeks and ears flushed, and Kylo looked proud, like a mother wolf showing off its pups.

"So," Finn said after a brief silence. "Do you guys, uh…" He wasn't sure how he was planning to finish the question. Did he want to know the answer to the question he wanted to ask?

Kylo's smile grew into something sharp and slightly predatory, and Finn decided _yes_, he really did want to know the answer to the question he didn't ask. He did.

To Finn’s surprise, it was Ben who answered the unasked question.

“We share,” he said with a little smile, shoulders relaxing. “Sometimes.”

“We’re very close,” Kylo added, as though it clarified anything. Finn still wasn’t entirely sure.

“You’re still on my lap,” Ben said, taking another sip of beer. He seemed to be getting more comfortable with the situation the longer it lasted, as his brother stood behind him and rubbed his shoulder with one hand and held his own beer in the other.

“You... share,” Finn mumbled, still in the process of catching up.

The brothers exchanged a glance, and then Ben quaffed his beer while Kylo looked Finn up and down and said, “We’d like to share _you_. If you’re interested.”

Finn wasn’t sure how they came to that agreement, since they hadn’t communicated as far as he could see, but Ben looked satisfied and Kylo looked hungry, so Finn took another couple of swallows of beer, made a face that he hoped expressed deep thought, and finally said, “Yeah, okay.”

* * *

After getting several more assurances from Finn that _yes_, he really did consent to being shared by Ben and Kylo, the brothers took him by the hands and, leaving their beers forgotten in the living room, led him back through the darkened hallway. They went to a room that Finn assumed was Kylo's, because there was a small easel in front of the window supporting an unfinished canvas and grubby tubes of oil paint scattered on the sill. Aside from that burst of life the rest of the room was spare, just a single shelf containing a handful of paperbacks and a chest of drawers. The small room was dominated by a king-sized bed, with a smooth white headboard and no footboard, swathed entirely in black. 

Once there, Ben and Kylo worked together to get Finn naked, Ben in front taking care of his top half and Kylo behind, removing his boots and jeans much as he had done back in October. Once Finn was unclothed, however, Ben backed him against the wall, fell to his knees, and took his cock in his mouth with a growl. Kylo undressed himself slowly as he watched the other two, and once he was naked too he gave Finn a kiss.

"As I recall," he said, coming up for air and giving Finn a chance to look down at Ben, still on his knees, his face and hands slick with saliva, "There was something you wanted to do last time that I didn't let happen."

"Yeah," Finn answered, as he watched Ben pull his cock most of the way out of his mouth before giving its head a strong suck and taking it into the back of his throat again with a muffled _umph_. Both the sight and the sensation had Finn moaning, but after a moment he was able to continue. "You were wrong, too. I regret not doing it more than I would have regretted doing it. I’ve been coming back to that bar every month since then hoping I would see you again, and we could make things right."

Kylo pecked Finn's cheek and gave his right nipple a pinch that traveled straight to his dick. 

"We can take care of that now, if you'd like. Would you like to do that, Finn?"

"Yeah I would.” It was really getting difficult to think, Ben was so enthusiastic and Finn was getting close to orgasm. He took a breath and gazed up into Kylo’s honey eyes. “I want you to fuck my ass while your brother fucks my mouth." 

Ben choked and rocked back on his heels. “Fuck, really?” He looked up at Finn as he wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, eyebrows raised and eyes bright. Kylo laughed and nudged Finn towards the bed. 

“That sounds good to me. Ben, you’re wearing too much, get naked. I’ll get the condoms and lube.”

It was happening quickly but Finn was feeling so high he was really okay with it. In short order he was splayed on his back across the bed, his hips set up on a few pillows and his head hanging off the edge of the mattress. Kylo was working him with his thick fingers, well-lubed, first one and then two. Once Ben was naked too he crouched down next to Finn and passed his arm under his shoulders, holding Finn up with his head against Ben’s shoulder.

“Let’s watch him for a minute, okay?” Ben asked his breath warm against Finn’s temple.

Kylo was fun to watch. His expression was so serious, eyebrows drawn together, corners of his lips turned down; he looked like he was considering an answer to an essay question on an exam and not sticking his fingers in someone’s ass. Finn wondered if he looked like that when he was painting - thoughtful, deliberate, almost contemplative - and decided that he probably did, and that he, Finn, would like to watch him do it, if he were ever given the chance.

Ben’s hands were tight around Finn’s arms, and he could hear his breath and feel his heartbeat, both strong and quick and making his body rock and shiver beneath Finn’s shoulders.

“You guys ready?” Kylo asked, rising up on his knees so they could see him rolling on the condom and slathering it up with lube.

“Fuck, yes,” Finn moaned, and Ben giggled and gave him a squeeze.

“I’ll hold you until he’s fucking you good,” Ben murmured, “And then you can take me. Okay?”

Finn nodded, but didn’t say anything because that was the moment that Kylo breached him with the head of his cock, and he lost a couple of breaths.

“You okay?” The man asked, his hands pushing Finn’s knees up to open him up as well as he could. It was still a tight fit.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Finn choked out, controlling his instinct to roll his hips. “You’re just really big. Gimme a second and then push in more.”

Ben hummed and kissed Finn’s temple, and after a few seconds Kylo pressed in a bit more. It was a stretch, but a really nice one, and Finn whimpered and gave in to his desire to wiggle a bit. The movement made his cock wiggle, too, and precum dripped from its head, exposed where his brown foreskin had pulled back, leaving the tip pink and shining and naked. Ben hummed and scooped the drops up with the tip of his finger, then drew it into his mouth.

“Delicious,” he said, smacking his lips with a smile. “Ready for me now?”

In the meantime Kylo had hilted himself, and Finn had a moment to adjust. He was ready for sure.

“Yeah,” he breathed. “Let’s do this.”

Kylo started to move, short, shallow thrusts to get them both acclimated, and Ben set Finn back, his head draped over the edge of the bed, and together Finn and Ben worked to get Ben’s cock into Finn’s mouth and found an angle that both of them found pleasurable. 

Finn couldn’t tell if having Kylo fucking his ass was a distraction from Ben, or if having Ben in his mouth was a distraction from Kylo, but it was frustrating in the best possible way to have his attention divided between the two men. Once they all hit a rhythm Finn was able to lie back and just take it. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the sensation of Ben, tracing his tongue along the veins of his cock as he thrust into his mouth, working his lips as well as he could when given the opportunity to wrap them about the generous head of Ben’s cock. Kylo’s movements were perfect, almost dreamy, and the noises the two of them made had Finn feeling unreasonably proud of himself. It didn’t hurt that their moans and grunts were punctuated with comments about him, and each other.

“Look at how he takes your cock,” Ben whispered. “Does that feel as good as it looks?”

“_Better_,” Kylo growled, pushing Finn’s knees even farther apart and thrusting quickly twice, which made Finn gag around Ben’s cock. Ben pulled out quickly but Finn grabbed his hips and took him right back into his mouth, which made them all laugh.

“That feels good, too, doesn’t it?” Kylo asked Ben, once they were back in rhythm.

“Yeah. I’m getting pretty close.”

Finn had known this; Ben’s cock was feeling thicker, and the salty bitterness of precum was heavy on the back of his tongue. Finn gave Ben’s cock a good suck, to let him know he was there and willing whenever Ben was ready; Ben stroked his cheek in acknowledgment. 

“You’ve been very good for us, Finn,” Kylo said. “I think it’s time for us to do something sweet for you now.”

A large, warm, slightly slick hand grasped Finn’s cock - Kylo’s hand, Finn thought, given the angle - and a pair of dexterous fingers pinched each of his nipples. He whined and wiggled, and the fingers pinched harder and the other hand moved faster and Kylo slowed his thrusts but also made them _more_ and then Ben pulled out of Finn’s mouth and used his hand instead so Finn could yell and then Ben yelled, too. Finn was coming to terms with his own orgasm, which lasted longer than he thought it should and was so strong it felt like his balls were coming out of his dick - but in the best possible way - and had him seeing stars, when Kylo pulled out and yanked the condom off and spurted cum all over Finn’s belly with a shout. Ben came, too, and hit Finn’s chest and chin, mixing with his own cum. Finn was exhausted and happy and completely covered with cum. 

Lying on the bed, breathing in the scent of sweat and cum, Finn thought to himself that he really was living his best life.

He was still catching his breath when someone wiped a warm, damp cloth across his chest. He opened his eyes - hadn’t even realized they’d been closed - and caught the honey eyes of Kylo. It was Kylo, he was certain; even without the longer hair he’d be certain. There was something about his eyes, and his smile, that was distinctively Kylo, just as there was something about the way Ben held his shoulders, and his mouth. He was embarrassed all over again that he’d ever confused one for the other.

“Don’t worry about it,” Kylo murmured, continuing to wipe down his body. “People often get us confused when we first meet.”

“Won’t happen again,” Finn said, stretching and enjoying the feeling of the soft dampness against his skin. “I mean,” he continued quickly, realizing how it might have sounded, “I can tell you apart now, I’m sure I can.”

“We’re sure you can, too,” said Ben, stepping through the door and picking up Finn’s boxers from where Kylo had discarded them on the floor. The brothers traded a glance, and Ben tentatively asked, “Do you want to stay the night?”

“Or do you have an early flight tomorrow?” Kylo added, with one of his half-smiles.

“I don’t have an early flight,” Finn answered honestly, “And I don’t have to be at training until nine. I’d love to stay, if you don’t mind.”

Kylo and Ben didn’t mind, and it wasn’t much longer before they were all snuggled in Kylo’s bed, with Finn in the middle. It was very sweet, Finn thought to himself as he drifted off, and most definitely worth the wait.

**Author's Note:**

> Original art written for this story by [Blackfig](https://twitter.com/Blackfig_)! Thank you for participating in the Anthology, I love this art!


End file.
